Mutual
by TheMipstaz
Summary: "Do you like me?" Mello's blue eyes watched Matt's face very carefully. "'Course I like you, Mels. You're my best friend. Wha's that s'posed to mean?" "Nothing," Mello replied. "Just wanted to make sure the feeling's mutual, you know?" The blond mentally applauded Matt's acting skills. However, one thing had given the gamer away… Fluffy MxM (Rated T for swearing)


**Look what I found while rummaging through some of my old writing! That's right, Death Note stuff :) Anyways, I was planning (a LONG time ago) to write this DN fic, and this was going to be ch. 1. But then I lost my muse and desire to do it :/ But that's okay 'cause now I can post it as a one-shot. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. **

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_Clunk!_

The green eyes of a 13 year-old Matt shot up for a second to take in the sight of the fallen text book on the ground through the orange-tinted lens of his goggles, before darting back to the screen of his PSP–but not quite fast enough.

"Shit," Matt swore as he realized he'd died.

Frowning, he lowered the handheld into his lap before leaning back against the side of the bed, where he'd been sitting.

What was the matter with him? Never before had such a minor occurrence ruined his concentration so thoroughly…

From his seat on the floor, Matt began to glare at the textbook, who had so rudely interrupted him moments before, as if it could answer his silent question.

Huffing in vexation, at both his own momentary mental retardation and the book's silent treatment, Matt was just about to get up in search of a different game to play when–

SLAM!

"Gahhhh!" yelled a furious 14 year-old boy as he stormed into the room, throwing the door open and radiating an aura venomous enough to kill unicorns… Okay, maybe not unicorns–more like puppies or something.

The point was, Mello was mad; and while most people–well, the ones who had at least one working braincell–would've been fleeing for their life or cowering in the hope that the blond wouldn't notice them, Matt just smiled as said blond smashed his fist against the wall with a sharp crack.

It wasn't because Matt enjoyed watching Mello bruise his fist–he wasn't a freaking sadist or anything–but simply because the older boy brought a sense of joy and light-heartedness that no one else did.

Mello just made Matt…well, happy.

There was no other way to put it.

Everything from Mello's never-less-than-perfec golden hair and flawless skin to his total badas leather and fiery personality made Matt happy. What wasn't there to love about Mello?

Wait, did he just say love? Okay, so maybe Matt had a _slight_ baby crush on his best friend, which had begun developed over the course of the week…or a huge one that had started over three months ago.

So what? It's not like Matt was ever going to _tell_ Mello, so what did it matter if he liked him?

Besides, Mello wasn't gay; so end of conversation.

Shaking his head clear it, Matt saw that his roommate had stopped his "Punching the Walls" phase and entered his "Curse Near to Hell For Being Number One" phase.

The words "retarded sheep" and "fucking albino" being muttered under Mello's breath was Matt's cue to reach under his bed to grab one of many chocolate bars stashed there for this very situation: ranking days at Wammy's.

Tossing it to Mello, who easily snatched the sweet out of the air without looking, Matt returned half of his attention to his PSP screen and said, "So what was the spread this time?"

"One point nine percent!" Mello exploded angrily, ripping off a huge chunk in the first bite. "Two fucking percent below that emotionless sheeptard."

Matt nodded, not even bothering to ask for the percent spread between himself and Mello. He always made sure to calculate his grades very carefully so as to stay ahead of the girl ranked fourth but stay below Mello.

Sure, it was a pain to do sometimes–well, _all_ the time–but there was no way in hell he was going to risk accidently pushing Mello down to third.

If he ever did, all hell would break loose, and the only survivors would be those weirdos who've been prepared for the apocalypse since who knows when.

Long story short, it would _not_ be good.

Letting out a groan, Mello flopped onto his bed, and smothered his face with a pillow, muffling his voice.

With another smile twitching at the corner of his mouth at the cutely childish action, Matt got up, abandoning his PSP, and clambered onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside his best friend.

Then, Matt began to methodically run his fingers through the gold locks, gently untangling the knots that had been born of Mello's rampage.

Mello didn't say anything, but Matt felt him relax under the gentle touch, calming the raging inferno that was the blond's temper. The redhead smiled and continued combing his friend's hair, though it had long since returned to all its previous silky glory.

The ritual, whose calming effect–for both of them–was one Matt had discovered long ago.

After a while, Mello twisted so that he was laying on his back, gazing at Matt's goggle-covered eyes and said, "Hey, Matt?"

"Hmm?" Matt was now idly playing with some stray strands of blond hair.

It was times like these that Matt truly appreciated his and Mello's closeness, for he could get away with doing things anyone else wouldn't dare dream of. For instance, had it been anyone else, he or she would've woken up hours later with more bruises than they could count and numerous (possibly vital) body parts missing.

But since it was Matt, Mello allowed it.

Plus, it felt kind of…nice. In the most heterosexual way, of course.

"Do you like me?" Mello's blue eyes watched Matt's face very carefully (since his eye were hidden by those stupid goggles), unsure of how the other boy would take the simple question.

The redhead's face scrunched up in confusion. "'Course I like you, Mels. You're my best friend. Wha's that s'posed to mean?"

"Nothing," Mello replied, never missing a beat. "Just wanted to make sure the feeling's mutual, ya know?"

When Matt just shrugged and continued playing with Mello's hair, the blond mentally applauded Matt's acting skills. His facial expressions and words weren't too sudden or too late and his voice control was excellent. Mello himself couldn't have done a better job.

However, one thing had given the gamer away: the way his fingers in Mello's hair froze when Mello asked if Matt liked him. It was only for a split second, but that was enough.

The suspicion of Matt liking him, which Mello had been harboring for sometime, had now been confirmed.

Now, if only Mello could figure out why he seemed to have butterflies in his stomach at this revelation…

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**Even after cleaning it up a bit, I'm not sure if this is up to par w/what I was hoping, but oh well. **

**Review please? **


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